So I’m taking (or re-taking, rather, seeing as how things turned out last time) a class online, and I’ve decided that online graduate school classes are complete and utter shit. I’ve been kind of ambivalent about making the call, because circumstances change, etc., and there are some things that are just subjective, but no. My entire experience has been a flaming ball of poo thrown into a fan.
My experience has been that my professors can’t spell properly (they “definately” can’t spell “Wikapedia”, for some reason), have no idea what proper protocol for responding to email is, and are ignorant of methods for effective TEACHING. These folks have gotten these jobs through what are quite possibly questionable means (“Look! I published a book! I have a PhD! Hire me!” ”Um, okay!”), and are utilizing the “sit on your butt and just let the kids take care of themselves” method of teaching, which isn’t teaching, it’s babysitting. BAD babysitting, at that.
I understand that, on the internet, many things are lost in translation. I also understand that, in taking an online course, I ran the risk of having not-so-bright classmates. It is an opportunistic method of education, after all. I chose it because, at the time, I was living in the middle of BFE, Tennessee, and couldn’t attend a traditional graduate program. I assumed that the environment would be conducive to discussion, seeing as how it takes place on what’s basically a bastardized version of a fan-page forum. Or any forum, really, where someone posts, and others respond. The only difference is that Godwin’s Law hasn’t come up, despite this being a class on diversity and discrimination.
Now, despite still feeling like ass most of the time, I’ve been looking up graduate programs at the two major universities in my area (U of M and CBU) to see what my options are. Why? Because I live 15 minutes away from both of them, I’m having trouble finding a job, anyway, and I might as well get my post-graduate education in a setting that doesn’t make me want to throw my laptop out of a moving vehicle (for reasons other than the issues I’m having typing with a couple of missing keys).
Here’s what I’ve been dealing with in the past two weeks:
I hate Internet Explorer (if you want to know why, get a good virus/malware program and sweep your computer after using IE for a week). The courseroom environment only likes Internet Explorer and Java, and will only run properly when both of those programs are cooperating. On my computer, for some reason, IE doesn’t want to run Java scripts, despite my many attempts to make it so. Because Java won’t work, I can post assignments, but they don’t format correctly (there’s a Java-based html editor that won’t run), and turn into a giant blob of words without proper spacing when they’re posted. You guys know how I write – exactly as I do, here, with lots of words and paragraph breaks that are instrumental to make my point. This is a BIG problem.
The courseroom environment thinks, when I’m using Firefox or Chrome, that I’m using Safari (WTF?), and refuses to let me click on certain links, such as those necessary for me to open the damned posting windows in the first place.
I think I’ve gotten things relatively sorted so that I can just use Firefox and keep my sessions short (the longer I’m signed in, the more chances there are for something to go wrong, and tech support’s solution basically amounts to “um, did you re-start your computer?”), but this is ridiculous. I spent two weeks not being able to do anything in the courseroom at all, so now I have to play catch-up AND do my newer assignments, and the teacher’s response, after receiving an email from me (through the school’s site – I could still log in to that, since it’s gmail-based) explaining in detail what was going on, was, I shit you not, essentially the following, “So, um, you haven’t turned in some assignments. Why?”
*headdesk*
I know a lot of people quote the “nuke it from orbit” line from Aliens, but I’m fond of another Ripley quote in situations like this one:
The Schecter Diamond Series electric to the left is courtesy of Domino (a high school nickname I can’t stop using), my accompanist, who loaned it to me so that I could practice on a guitar without so much force needed to hold down the strings. The Washburn Lyon acoustic is the guitar Wasband got for me the Christmas before we were engaged, in 2008. I figured 3 years in purgatory was enough, and finally pulled it out of storage on January 1st (total coincidence, BTW – this wasn’t a New Year’s Resolution, just an impulse), tuned it, and began to learn how to play. Those of you who follow me on Facebook have been privy to my late-night ramblings about chord progressions and “Seriously? How complicated is this song, and WHY is it that complicated? WTF, Y U NO MAKE SONG EASY, HUH?”
I can play several songs, albeit very slowly, and they’re definitely easier on the electric. I’ve adopted the “guitarist’s manicure” of short nails on the left hand, and longer nails on the right, and it’s made typing, texting, and other activities very interesting.
Here’s proof that I know a couple of chords. Also, that my fingers look really awkward (somehow, playing French horn for 13 years did nothing to help my left-hand coordination, because both my thumb and pinkie really want to be wrapped around a hook, and the other three fingers want to be flat, not curved):
It's an A! WOO! (Demonstrated on the Diamond)
B7! (Demonstrated on the Lyon)
Incidentally, this finger-retardation at the hands of my French horn is why I can’t play Guitar Hero past the “Medium” setting. My pinkie just won’t cooperate.
I have begun to develop callouses, which makes typing even MORE interesting, because the tips of my fingers are numb unless they’re being subjected to metal-string-related abuse:
Note the cat hair sticking to my middle finger. It's inescapable in this house.
My fingernails are that sickly color because I nervously picked my nail polish off, instead of using polish remover, and they’re stained. Why was I nervous?
That's right. School.
I started classes on the 9th, and I have to say that I am, once again, sorely disappointed in the lack of grammatical capacity of both my fellow students and my professor (a woman who has an entire website devoted to the books and articles she’s written, and plugs both in announcements and general comments in the class; that’s just tasteless, IMHO). My classmates have the usual issues that you see in middle-school-aged kids, with incorrectly-conjugated verbs, subject-verb DIS-agreement, sentence fragments, and citing Wikipedia after expressly being told that Wikipedia is not allowed. My professor, on the other hand, misspelled “Wikipedia” as “Wikapedia”, and continues to do so, seemingly at random. It’s confusing and disheartening, because it makes me feel like she’s cutting and pasting things (plagiarism!) when she spells it correctly, which makes me not want to try as hard in the class to do a good job. It’s such a little thing to bitch about, but when the ONLY interaction you have with someone is in writing, it’s really difficult to respect the blatant-error-maker behind the blatant errors. My classmates don’t really have an excuse (I feel like I’m in English 101, rather than a graduate school course), and my professor has no excuse.
Basically, I’m viewing my classmates as the bloggers/Twitter users who type everything in all caps or in text abbreviations. The difference is that I have to read their work and respond to it, or I don’t get a good grade. It’s like a form of torture to me.
On a fun note, we’re talking about discrimination, and I’ve decided to buck the trend of talking about homosexuals, black or Hispanic folks, and women, and focus on a group of white males for my discriminated group (yes, really). I’m doing my project on rednecks, and how the connotations and direct meaning of the word have changed significantly in the past 150 years. Yes, it’s a valid argument. Yes, I’ve gotten some weird comments about it. Yes, I’m loving every second of it. It’s really the only joy I’m getting out of the class.
In addition to taking this class, I’ve been continuing to tutor as my only means of (much needed) income.
The subject that I can actually share information about in a public forum.
Somehow, 3 out of the 5 evenings I tutor are on the ASVAB. After my first student, I put a blurb on my tutoring profile through the site I use to get customers about how much I was able to raise his score (18 points – not too shabby, considering the circumstances that I’m not really allowed to share with you; trust me when I say that it was a significant achievement on his part, though, and he worked his ass off to get there), and until I made my profile non-searchable yesterday (because no one wants to be tutored in the middle of the day, and my evenings are pretty full), I got four or five students asking me about tutoring them on the ASVAB. I got a phone call through the recruiting station where my first student went (he gave them my information to give out, because he was so happy with how I helped him), and while that person never followed up, I have three solid days of ASVAB per week from two students (and this may turn into 4, depending on how my second student decides to proceed). The other two nights are spent on elementary-through-high-school-aged sets of siblings, and will likely last until May.
In non-academic news, Sophie’s been feeling under the weather, and has taken to hiding under the end of the bed when she can’t be seated RIGHT ON TOP OF ME ZOMG:
Also, I need to vacuum. I apologize.
She sneezes a lot when it gets colder outside, because the heater coming on kicks up dust, and I started giving her antihistamines in my bathroom, which made her go, “NUH-UH, MOMMA, I’M OUTTA HERE, KTHX.” I had to switch to giving them to her in Forrest’s bathroom, because she will never see it, otherwise, and that way she will actually go INTO my bathroom to eat and drink (which she’d stopped doing for a couple of days – it scared the shit out of me).
This is how I surf the internet (scary webcam photo with bad lighting – beware!):
The word "rack" is being taken literally by this creature. Also, lulz at her facial expression.
If I’m sitting up straight, she STILL tries to sit on my chest, and, um, yeah…my boobs are pretty big, but they’re not actually a shelf, so that’s when she gets pissed off and goes under the bed.
THAT’S MY LIFE. IT’S EXCITING.
Other things are in the works, such as being an extra in two movies next month (local productions done by friends and acquaintances, for credit and a copy of the movies – my IMDB profile will grow a bit), singing in a show on February 3rd (all covers, but hopefully someone will have a damned video camera that works, this time, so that I’ll have something to show my family and friends who can’t make it), and the all-important task of finding a regular job. Tutoring is fine, but as I mentioned above, people only want tutoring in the evening, and while I get paid a decent amount of money for a 2-hour session (it equates to a full day of minimum wage, minus taxes), I need to, you know, go to the doctor, have savings, and feel like a productive member of society. I’m still irritated that the personal assistant job didn’t work out (long story that’s based around bad timing for the company, and the owner’s inability to see it because a lot was happening), but I’m putting out feelers, and I’m really hoping I can find something, soon. If I was sure my feet and legs could handle it, I would have applied at Costco or something long ago.
This is really sad, but I’m stopping this entry to do a homework assignment that I was unable to do before due to some of my source websites participating in the blackout protest (I get it, I don’t disagree with it, but most major sites allow you to see the protesting blackout page, but provide a way for you to bypass it to get to the actual site, because, HELLO, that’s how they make money – my sites are kind of obscure, and while they meant well, they didn’t think to allow people to access the sites during the protest, which is kind of stupid from a marketing perspective, and is also really annoying from the perspective of someone who’s assignment was due at midnight).
As a friend pointed out, though…it’s better than the tired “my dog ate my homework” excuse. :-P
Unlike 2010, where I had very few words to say, I actually have quite a few things to tell you before you depart.
You were the year in which my divorce was finalized. The end of any connection with Wasband, and his family, brought me some closure, though yeah, there are a few things that popped up toward the end of the year that were a surprise. They’re taken care of, though, so you’re the year that I truly got rid of that horrible man.
You were the year in which I began dating someone who is, by all measures, ACTUALLY amazing, not just conditionally. He’s the same around me as he is everyone else…including his dad. He opened his home to me when I had nowhere else to go, and was respectful enough to maintain a separate bedroom for months while I got my bearings and decided whether I wanted our relationship to progress to something more serious. After I made that decision, I haven’t regretted it.
You were also the year in which I was diagnosed with Chronic Lyme Disease, among other maladies that join it in a magnificently awful way. I’m learning my limits, but I’m also learning just how much I can toe the line, and you’ve pushed me to do a few things this year that I might have never done, otherwise. I learned to swallow my pride and ask for help when I need it, and have learned that, hilariously, Wal-Mart literally makes me sick.
I got off of most of my medication this year…unnecessary meds that did nothing more than slow me down, dull my senses, and damage my liver and kidneys. I found several doctors who listen to me, but aren’t afraid to challenge me if they think I’m being ridiculous about something. I can’t tell you how invaluable that’s been. Doctors have been throwing medication at me for so long that I forgot what it was like to have an appointment where other options were discussed.
I re-connected with folks from high school in a way that I’d have never imagined. In particular, two different guys named Jason. One who dropped everything to call in some friends and help me move my stuff from Covington to Collierville at the beginning of the year (and who helped ensure that I still had transportation, at a later point), and another who, mid-year, re-kindled my passion for singing and has supported me figuratively and literally (he’s my accompanist, in fact) in performing.
I lost my cats, then got one of them back. Sure, Sophie’s a bit of a pill, but when you have moments like this when you’re so sick you can’t do anything but watch Netflix and keep hydrated:
I had a fever. She likes warm things. She still manages to look evil in an adorable moment like this one.
…well, you start to overlook the little things. Like the fact that she sneezed directly into my face right after I took this photo.
I learned that I have a special skill in teaching for standardized tests, which is something I’m just innately awesome at doing. Knowing I could pass some of that knowledge on made me feel useful during a time when “useless” was my main feeling toward myself.
I lost 40 pounds this year. I’m still over 200, and I hate it with a fiery passion, but being under 220 feels awesome, considering how resigned I’d let myself get with being over 250 while married. A huge part of that weight loss (most of it, really) was diet change to help my condition…which I would have never had diagnosed if I hadn’t gotten divorced. The other part of it was getting off of that medication that turned me into a slug.
I connected with several folks in the local movie and music industry. I got my name in a couple of projects, and am beginning to inject myself more into the scene as a photographer and makeup artist.
I don't have Photoshop on this computer. That's all makeup and lighting. Did I mention I was about a minute away from being pneumonia-ridden, as well? Yeah. That happened.
I’ve lost a lot, have gained very little in the way of material wealth, and am starting 2012 in pretty much the same position as I began 2011: unemployed, broke, and sick.
The difference is that, last year, I didn’t even have any hope. I was grasping at straws, unhappy, and my life was devastated.
This year, I have a little hope and a lot of support. I haven’t pinned all of my resources on one person – Forrest is very important to me, but I learned my lesson with Wasband. I’m keeping in contact with friends and family, and making my own path. I was scared to start tutoring, but did it, anyway. I freaked out at Halloween when I was tapped to sing covers to open for a band, but I sucked it up and got up there and had a blast. I have a paid gig in a month, as a result.
While I’m careful with my health, and I try not to push myself physically, I’ve gotten rid of my cane. It’s still here, in just case, but I haven’t used it in months, and THAT makes me feel awesome.
This is the year that taught me that I’m stronger than even I knew.
This is the year that showed me who my friends are, and on whom I could count when things got rough. I got a few surprising answers to both of those questions.
I also saw one of my best friends for the first time in over 3 years, today, by a freak occurrence involving her (brand new as of last night!) fiancee and his flight arrangements, which brought her to Memphis briefly. The last time I saw her was right before I got engaged to Wasband (2008), and she was still in the midst of her divorce from the father of her two sons…the guy she’d married when we were in college at APSU in 2002. You want to talk about missing a few things? Yeah, we’ve both missed a few things.
This also happened. PROOF.
Seeing Andrea today was the little kick-off for next year that I needed. It was a pretty good closer, and I hope that not so many years go by before I get to see her, again.
So…2011.
Parts of you sucked so much ass that your breath is a killer.
Parts of you were immeasurably awesome.
I learned a lot, did more than I thought I could, and am alive to tell the tale.
So while I don’t have the urge to kick you in the ass that I did 2010, I bid you farewell, with all of your faults and all of your bad memories, and welcome 2012 and the opportunities it brings.
Instead of resolutions, I’m just going to make myself a promise: don’t slide backward.
I can’t say it any better than pdb did, via Facebook:
Just to recap, not only has this administration become the #1 supplier of guns to Mexican drug cartels in order to fabricate a justification for more gun control, but they also think they should be able to detain any American, without trial, indefinitely. If you’d still like to claim this guy isn’t a fascist, I submit that now would be the most hilarious time for you to do so.
For those who assume a president would never turn down new powers to strip people of their liberty, the ACLU notes that “the last time Congress passed indefinite detention legislation was during the McCarthy era, and President Truman had the courage to veto that bill.”
Guess what, folks? Truman was a Democrat. I only point this out because it shows how far removed from reality politics have become. A Democrat turned down the opportunity to put “I have, in my hand, a list…” in action during a time when we, as a nation, were seriously freaking the hell out about Communism and the threat to national security. All we’re dealing with is another “-ism”, only this time our Fearless Leader is showing…well, fear.
What do people do when they’re afraid? Fight or flight. You may think this is “fight” on the part of Obama, but it’s not. It’s “flight” – the path of least resistance. Suspect someone of terrorism? Good, just lock them up! Problem solved!
Compare this to Truman, who was up against one of the smack-talkin’-est, mud-slingin’-est guy at the time (a guy who had millions of people behind him, to a point of true lunacy and stupidity) – and he said, “No.” Do you think that made him popular? Nope. Was it the right thing to do? You bet your ass it was. Why did he make that decision, when our current president can’t seem to wrap his head around the consequences?
I’m willing to bet that WWII being a lot further in our past at this point has something to do with it.
Waaaaaaaaaay back in 2006, I participated in a Broadway show at a club called Sessions (now called Crossroads), here in Memphis. I’m working on parsing out the other songs to share, but these are the two where I’m not wandering around the club like an autistic savant, avoiding the spotlight (it took me a looooong time to get used to just standing in one spot…the only way I could do it is if I was either sitting, or interacting with someone else), so…they’re the ones I’m going to post.
So, without further ado…um…enjoy!
This was the first song from the show.
This was done after spending nearly an hour singing along with Idina Menzel’s version of the “Wicked” soundtrack. I wish I still had vocal stamina like that.
Yes, I’m behind on this news, seeing as how it began far before Thanksgiving.
Apparently Sens. Carl Levin, D-Mich., and John McCain, R-Ariz, feel as though “reaching across the aisle” to agree on something involves fightin’ them some terr’ists, m’kay:
A bill on the Senate floor raises the question of whether the Senate has forgotten our history. S. 1253, the National Defense Authorization Act, has a provision in it, unfortunately drafted by Sens. Carl Levin, D-Mich., and John McCain, R-Ariz., that would let any U.S. president use the military to arrest and imprison without charge or trial anyone suspected of having any relationship with a terrorist organization. Although Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., and more than a dozen of her colleagues are bravely calling for a halt to a damaging bill, they face significant opposition.
The troubling provision, Section 1031, would let the military lock up both Americans and noncitizens in the 50 states. There would be no charges, no trial, no proof beyond a reasonable doubt. All that would be required would be suspicion.
That’s the article from November 27 – 4 days ago. Also? It’s brave to oppose a bill, now? Interesting.
The Obama administration threatened to veto the major defense authorization bill because of language paving the way for many terror suspects to be put under military custody, a sharp escalation of its battle with Congress over the future course of the war on terror.
The Senate’s version of the bill includes language effectively requiring that al-Qaida suspects captured overseas—and potentially at home—be transferred into military custody. The Pentagon opposes the provision, and many Democrats believe it would slow ongoing terror probes and remove skilled FBI interrogators from their work battling domestic threats. [emphasis mine]
[Something I thought was interesting...isn't Levin a Jewish name? Let's see...there's something about Jews and internment camps in our relatively recent world history...I can't quite put my finger on it...]
Anyway, that highlighted section? Yeah, “many Democrats” are correct, but they’re barking up the wrong tree with their reasoning. We’re not battling domestic threats. We’re calling folks who “stockpile” weapons and have more than a 7-day supply of food at any given point, missing fingers on their hands (seriously – I’m not making this up - this video was posted 2 days ago,and I’ll go ahead and imbed it below) “domestic terrorists”. WTF, y’all. Seriously? I have canned food, so I’m a terrorist? I have more than one type of gun, and know how to use them all effectively, so I’m a threat to national security?
Hypothetically (because this’ll never happen – I know I’m not cut out for military service, though I support those who are), if I worked as a welder in the military, and had been medically discharged from OUR military for a slip-up involving the loss of a thumb – I would have had to pass background checks rivaling those for gun purchase (though not as stringent as the process for owning a weapon in Chicago or D.C.), but once I’m out, someone who doesn’t see me in uniform and sees that I’m missing a thumb could report me as a terrorist, and off to Gitmo I go? Or, let’s see…didn’t they use random towns in California (ugh – what happened to you guys?) and Arkansas (*shudder* – sorry, y’all, but your state scares me, topographically) the last time this happened? So I would presumably be sent there.
Remember, an important part of this bill is NO DUE PROCESS. No matter what I said, what I did, my words would be ignored, and I would just be put in holding without trial.
You would, too.
This sounds like hyperbole, but some of you are old enough to remember WWII and the Japanese-American internment camps. WE did that, because Pearl Harbor scared the bejeeezus out of us, as a nation. Now it’s 9/11, and it’s being used 10 years later as an excuse to go completely crazy again.
This is nothing new. But it’s getting dangerously close to reality. Airports will get a lot more inconvenient, with people not just being pulled aside for frisking and ball-groping, but some actively just being taken into custody for missing a freakin’ finger.
I sincerely hope Obama keeps his word and vetoes it, because from what I’m reading, McCain (Irish! Another persecuted group from our past!) and Levin aren’t going to back down.
I’m not our President’s biggest fan. Part of the reason I stopped writing about politics and the goings-on in the world (even when bin Laden was declared dead) is because I just can’t respect Obama. He bothers me.
However, he’s right to want to veto this bill, and his reasoning is sound – it’s ridiculous, and sets a dangerous precedent. He could USE this bill to put anyone he wanted into prison, but he’s threatening to veto it on the grounds that it’s unconstitutional. He’s USING his J.D., for once, and that? I can respect.
UPDATE: There was a vote to remove the “no due process” wording from the bill. The following is a list of who voted, and how they answered – “Nay” means “keep the wording in the bill”, while “Yea” means, “take that shit out.” (As an aside, I find it hilarious and sad that Alaska isn’t voting.) Tennessee, you disappoint me, yet again.
Before you read this, I want to say that if you’re with family and friends and are enjoying yourselves, for God’s sake, don’t let me ruin your good time. Do what you want, and what makes you happy. This is just my personal opinion based on my personal experiences. Eat the hell out of some turkey and dressing, and socialize and have a good time. Sincerely, if it means anything to you, Happy Thanksgiving.
And now for the shit-talk.
I HATE Thanksgiving.
In the age of the Internet, everyone’s doing these memes of posting one thing per day in November of what they’re thankful for, and acting like it’s this big thing, and I’m like, “Hey, can’t you do that…um…all the time? And just not talk about it with everyone? Because it’s kind of annoying, thanks.”
Not that I don’t have anything to be thankful for…I do.
The thing in my leg? Likely a (harmless…and yes, there is such a thing) surface aneurysm caused by trauma (baby gate FAIL, essentially – I fell this summer, and didn’t even think about it, but the gate is the same height as the lump, and the fall was pretty epic…the gate came down with me, and I had some gnarly bruises all over the place). The trauma caused a weak spot, NSAIDS caused blood thinning when I took them during my period, which is why it would get bigger and smaller, and it just got to the point of, um, expressing itself this weekend. It still looks funny, and I’m keeping an eye on it, but it’s not an infection, and it’s not a blood clot. It’s basically a bruise from the darkest reaches of hell…but it didn’t hurt. WTF, y’all. RANDOM.
My new job is interesting, even if it’s sporadic enough to make me twitchy about money. I’m looking for another part-time gig…in fact, I’m thinking of looking at my local range to see if they need counter help, since they usually do this time of year. But my boss? Is freakin’ hilarious. And she TRUSTS me to do a good job, which makes me feel really good about myself. She handed me a bunch of cash and sent me on errands today. It’s literally been almost 10 years since an employer did that…trusted me with their petty cash, and gave me waaaaaaay too much of it for what they wanted (stamps, batteries, and a bike chain…seriously). I’m still technically a temp, and am being paid through the agency, but the woman gave me a HUG today after I spent a couple of hours filling out checks for her business and personal bills (I’m apparently ACTUALLY a personal assistant, not just a calendar-keeper), and told me she was so happy I was there. I mean…holy shit. Yes, I need to get another job to supplement, but unless she goes all Sybil on me, I LIKE this job. I’m HAPPY to run errands…to feel useful. Also? She has epically high ceilings in her home, and if I don’t lose some weight after working there for a while (the office is upstairs), I will clearly have been doing something wrong.
I have Forrest. We had a bit of a spat recently, but because we’re ADULTS, we talked it through, instead of one party pouting and being all passive-aggressive while the other sat in silence and just ignored the issue. That’s a big deal for me. My initial impulse was to hide, but then I thought, “WTF? No. No, no, no.” And we talked. And it’s all good, now.
These are things that can happen ANY day of the year.
This also happens to be during the time period of what I’m now referring to as Year Three of the Worst Season in Existence. For the past few years, something horrible has ALWAYS happened between Halloween and New Year’s Day. ALWAYS. I count my honeymoon in this…that sucked so much ass, you guys. I was on my period the whole time (I’d just started my birth control…it wasn’t a pleasant three weeks), and Wasband got homesick. The only redeeming feature (aside from the awesomely cozy cabin we stayed in, courtesy of Michael and Claire, who could sure as hell use some prayers right now, by the way, if you’re in the prayin’ mood – they’re both in East TN, at that same cabin, getting intensive Lyme treatment), was the pizza from that little shop in Cobbley Knob. Holy shit, that pizza was awesome.
You all know what happened the next year. If not: Wasband left me in a ridiculous fashion, I went through my divorce during the anniversary of our wedding and honeymoon (we had them at separate times), and spent the new year in such a funk that I don’t even remember what I did, but it probably involved halfway participating in some sort of countdown at my dad’s house while watching Netflix on a friend’s account. I avoided family because they all wanted to talk about the divorce, and I wanted to be left alone to sulk and cry and be depressed, because THEN I got diagnosed with Lyme. Yeah. It sucked some serious ass.
This year, some bad shit has gone down. Not nearly as awfully life-changing as the previous two years (no, seriously…the honeymoon was the beginning of the end of our marriage, and I wish I was joking…I lied my ass off for MONTHS about being happy), but I’ve had some shitty luck, some health scares, a boss from hell, my car STILL sucks, and with the economy being as bad as it has been, I’m honestly amazed I’ve made it this far. I’ve been given medications that literally made me almost drive into traffic…and another that caused me to self-injure. I could, literally, be dead right now, all because no one’s quite sure what’s wrong except that I have Lyme and I’m having abnormal reactions to things.
The thing is, it’s not my attitude. I mean, yeah, I hate the holidays, now, and that’s coloring my viewpoint a bit because of all of the new symbolic shit behind the usual symbolic shit, and it’s only been a year, so I’m still a little bitter when I think about things, but I’ve been trying to pick myself up and do stuff. I’ve recorded some songs (with new ones DEFINITELY on the way, as well as something I’m not allowed to talk about, but am excited about, because it’s a potential happy-maker). I’ve maintained a fairly healthy relationship for the past 10 months…which is longer than I’d known Wasband before we got engaged (lulz, y’all). I’ve re-connected with some old friends, and have maintained relationships that were all but gone when I was married. I’ve been actively job-searching, and re-registered for a class at grad school…I’m GOING FOR IT.
I just fucking HATE Thanksgiving, probably for the same reason that some REALLY devout Christians HATE Christmas and people who put up a tree once a year and feel pious…like the Catholics who sit in Christmas Mass looking at the sea of new faces that only show up that one night a year…I mean, I feel like a total pompous ass when I admit how I feel about this holiday.
That thing on my leg is exhibiting weirder and weirder signs of definitely NOT being MRSA…but exhibiting signs of nothing I’ve ever seen or heard of, nor can find information about on EBSCO. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon, so we’ll see what the hell is going on with THAT little mess.
Uh, I’m employed! YAY! Part-time. As the personal assistant to a somewhat-insane-yet-hilarious financial adviser who wants to be an actress at some point. Our interview occurred at a restaurant, which is a new one for me, and she was dressed in workout clothing. I get to wear jeans to work, and I’m basically…well, her personal assistant. I help with her calendar and scheduling, do whatever little things she needs when she needs them done, and will probably end up working 3 days a week or something like that. We haven’t hammered anything out with regard to scheduling…all I know is I’m going in tomorrow at 9am, and we’ll talk about everything else at that point. I do know that I’m going to be paid pretty well, so there’s that.
Thanksgiving’s coming up, and being someone who isn’t into the “LET’S GET THE FAMILY TOGETHER ZOMG” holiday scene, I’m making plans to, basically, get through it. I get to futz around playing tech support with my stepmother’s mom’s computer at some point that day, so that’ll be a fun diversion. FUN FACT: The computer has been owned for 5 years, and the user in question didn’t know what the “start menu” was while trying to have me troubleshoot over the phone. GOOD TIMES. Hence the “spend Thanksgiving getting photos from a camera to the computer and upload them to CraigsList” activity.
I got some potentially exciting music news – but I can’t really talk about it, other than to say that I am definitely recording some more songs (and even that’s kind of separate from the potentially exciting news).
I was contacted by an old friend today, totally at random, and we’re seeing about possibly hanging out a bit to say hi, tonight. He’s my ex-fiance’s former best friend (may still be a good friend…I have no idea), and I haven’t seen him in nearly 10 years, so I’m kind of excited about getting back in contact. This guy’s a lot of fun.
And with that, I’m going to go…well, sit around for a bit, I guess. I can hardly stand the excitement.
I have what I now believe to be a recurring bruise (in color, only) on my upper, inner right thigh.
It’s nearly perfectly round, perhaps 1/2″ in diameter, and doesn’t hurt when I press on it. It is, however, slightly raised, and when I run my finger over it, I can feel things “shifting” under the skin.
I think it’s recurring…it could always be there. I only notice it once per month, though, when I’m dealing with menstrual things, and am therefore paying more attention to that sector of my body. I really believe it’s recurring, though…it’s just a hunch.
I’ve been getting recurring, perfectly round bruises on the backs of my upper arms (usually the left) for a couple of years, now, but they’re flat in addition to being painless…they also change color to brown, eventually disappearing. I attribute those to the way I remove my bra, with the underwire hitting the back of my arm. I mean, I don’t know where they come from, but at least they act like “normal” bruises.
This bruise (or whatever it is), never changes from a dark purple/blue shade, and the surrounding skin is red and irritated. I’ve never seen it in any other form than how it is, now, as I’ve described it. It’s not a boil. It’s not hard or lumpy, and the skin texture is normal. It’s not centered around a hair follicle. It’s just randomly there.
To get a general idea of what I may be looking at, I did some Googling, but came up with nothing aside from a possible weakened vascular wall that’s compromised by my rampant use of NSAIDS at this time of the month. My other options are things like cancer and autoimmune complications, so clearly I’m going to go with the best-case scenario. Also, I think if it was cancer or something, I would have quite a few more, instead of just the one random bruise.
I’m going to wait another week to see what happens to it. If it goes away soon after my period ends, I’ll know that it’s related to that time frame, somehow.
This is the third or fourth time I’ve noticed it, which is why it’s even come up as a potential issue. It’s not like I engage in activities that would produce such a specific bruise, especially one that doesn’t hurt (and my skin, as a whole, hurts most of the time, so I find the painlessness to be one of the most odd factors).
The closest thing I can find that even remotely resembles it is something called a venous pool, where blood builds up in areas (usually on the face and ears) that are exposed to a lot of sunlight, causing capillary damage. Since my legs don’t see the light of day, let alone my inner thighs, that’s not really an option.
So I’m left with the possibility of it being a result of too many NSAIDS, or endometrial tissue that’s settled there and “sheds” when my uterus does. *shrugs* I really don’t know. It’s not a vitamin deficiency, because it’s happened both while on and off multivitamins.
It’s got Forrest worried, and I’m only worried because it’s so weird. It’s like me getting blisters on my forefingers during PMS – it defies explanation, it has to have a hormonal component…but my doctors just kind of shrug about it, because they have no idea what’s going on, either.
Hopefully it’s just the NSAID thing, and I won’t have anything to worry about, but happy thoughts wouldn’t go amiss.
It’s just…weird. I don’t like “weird”, right now, because “weird” usually leads to “bad”, and I’ve had quite enough of that this month, kthx.
I guess I’ll try to get some sleep. My schedule’s all kinds of messed up, lately.
So that chick who worked with me? That I figured was going to get fired the Monday after I did? They waited until the following Wednesday (October 26th, for those playing at home…while I was fired on the 21st) to fire her.
I don’t just have a theory about this, I have some pretty rock-solid evidence: they needed her gone in order to make firing me not look retaliatory. In order to fire her, they had to root through browser histories and concoct a story about how the two of us apparently fucked around for 2 hours on a Saturday, thereby stealing time (and money!) from the company. (Their “evidence” is that during that time, in which she and I were both sorting bills [and are our own witnesses, which means shit to them], Youtube was on my browser…because in their minds it’s impossible to listen to music and work at the same time? even though the auditors all do it every day?)
Strange, though – they paid me for the time that I allegedly “stole”…after they fired me for “stealing” it. Then they sent me a NEW termination notice (still poorly-worded, with atrocious grammar) outlining their new reason for firing me in great detail (with dialogue and everything!).
Let me say that again: They fired me before the end of a pay period. They could have hacked those 2 hours off of my check if they REALLY thought I hadn’t worked, whether they fired me or not. Citing that I “stole” from the company before anything actually disappeared, on the same day that I made a complaint about a co-worker harassing me…um, that’s a little suspicious, guys.
My co-worker also got paid for the time she “stole” – and of course she would, because neither of us actually took anything.
I’m still looking into the EEOC thing, because there are some weird issues with TN state law (we’re “at will”) that may make a complaint literally not worth it, but I already have a lawyer chomping at the bit to help me, should it get to that point, so we’ll see what happens.
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Re: My Stupid Car:
I failed inspection. Again. The hydrocarbons, from what I understand, are the result of incomplete fuel combustion (and fuel evaporation?), but can go up if your car’s oil is ridiculously dirty, according to the first guy who inspected my car.
The goal score for Memphis, proper, is something like 220ppm. My first inspection, I was at 265ppm.
My second inspection? After I got my oil changed and all that? 333ppm.
So, yeah, that sucked. I may have cried.
Anyway, the situation being that I don’t have any roots anywhere, anyway (since before I got married, in mid-2009, I haven’t had my name on internet, cell phone, utility, or other bills attached to an address), I decided that, since my car is insured in Collierville (where they don’t do inspection), I might as well just go for that for the time being.
I was fretting about paperwork, because, as I noted above, I don’t have anything else that goes to that address. Aside from my car insurance…yeah. And I needed two items of proof of address.
I grabbed the bill for my storage unit (in Collierville, and registered at the same address as my insurance), and, on a whim, grabbed my divorce-finalization letter from February. I guess my reasoning there was to prove how transitory my life was, so that they wouldn’t give me shit about not having a utility bill or anything.
Et voila – that’s all they needed. I showed them the insurance info, my driver’s license, and when my clerk started asking other questions, I slid the letter from the lawyer under the window and told her that life’s been a little uncertain since my divorce. And it has, so I’m not actually lying.
The funny part came when she tried to renew my plate – she had to get authorization from the state office to delete all evidence of my car having been registered in Tipton County (where I lived with Wasband) before she could renew my car for Shelby County. While I’m not entirely sure of the reasons behind that, I’m not entirely unhappy about having yet another part of my history there deleted, officially.
So, the point is, my car is now street-legal, because Collierville is a lot less picky about their air quality than Memphis.
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I was going to go into more detail about job stuff and whatnot, but it’s depressing. Several tutoring jobs are coming to a close, and the horizon is bleak as far as applications go (i.e. I keep applying to legit-looking positions that turn out to be scams, or applying and not getting any feedback at all), but I’m still trucking along.
I might start babysitting. Stranger things have happened, and kids like me, for some reason. Probably because I don’t talk to them like they’re kids, and it’s novel. I dunno. I’m also going to re-vamp my tutoring profile and go hog-wild emailing people about possible tutoring positions.
There’s been some talk about moving in the future, to where there might be some better jobs. Having that option discussed and in the open with Forrest has been a relief, honestly, for several reasons. He’s actually been to other cities, as have I, so it’s not just a whimsical “what if?” discussion (as it ended up being with Wasband) – it’s a real possibility.
I begin my grad classes again in January – one class at a time, because it’s what I can handle, and I need to finish this degree.
I have about a month before not having a job will be a real problem, financially.
So…happy thoughts?
Yeah, there are times when ending blog entries is really difficult. This is one of those times.
